Miss Peekin threw a withering glance at the deacon;
it was good he was not on trial for heresy, with Miss
Peekin for judge and jury. She continued:

“Eben says there was a fellow named Weasel that
hid close by, an’ heerd all ‘twas said,
and when he went to the rum-shop an’ told the
miners, they hooray’d for Jim ez ef they wuz
mad. Just like them crazy fellers—­they
hain’t no idee when money’s wasted.”

“The Lord waste all the money in the world that
way!” devoutly exclaimed the deacon.

“An’ that feller Weasel,” continued
Miss Peekin, giving the deacon’s pet cat a vicious
kick, “though he’d always been economical,
an’ never set a bad example before by persuadin’
folk to be intemprit, actilly drored a pistol, and
fit with a feller they called Colonel Two—­fit
for the chance of askin’ the crowd to drink
to Jim Hockson, an’ then went aroun’ to
all the diggins, tellin’ about Jim, an’
wastin’ his money treatin’ folks to drink
good luck to Jim. Disgraceful!”

“It’s what I’d call a powerful
conversion,” remarked the deacon.

“But ther’s more,” said Miss Peekin,
with a sigh, and yet with an air of importance befitting
the bearer of wonderful tidings.

“What?” eagerly asked Mrs. Crankett.

“Jim’s back,” said Miss Peekin.

“Mercy on us!” cried Mrs. Crankett.

“The Lord bless and prosper him!” earnestly
exclaimed the deacon.

“Well,” said Miss Peekin, with a disgusted
look, “I s’pose He will, from the looks
o’ things; fur Eben sez that when Weasel told
the fellers how it all wuz, they went to work an’
put gold dust in a box fur Jim till ther wus more
than he giv fur Brown, an’ fellers from all round’s
been sendin’ him dust ever since. He’s
mighty sight the richest man anywhere near this town.”

“Good—­bless the Lord!” said
the deacon, with delight.

“Ye hain’t heerd all of it, though,”
continued Miss Peekin, with a funereal countenance.
“They’re going to be married.”

“Sakes alive ’” gasps Mrs. Crankett.

“It’s so,” said Miss Peekin; “an’
they say she sent for him, by way of the Isthmus,
an’ he come back that way. Bad enough to
marry him, when poor Brown hain’t been dead
six months, but to send for him—­”